


Whiskey With A Lost Friend

by MemoryPalaceofWillGraham (JaxCat)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beverly is dead but she could still kick Will's ass, Drinking, Gen, Halloween, Mid-Season 2, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaxCat/pseuds/MemoryPalaceofWillGraham
Summary: Halloween night, shortly after Will has resumed his therapy with Hannibal. Will is alone with his whiskey and his thoughts, until a friend appears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> At Behold The Red Dragon Con/Red Dragon Con 2 in October 2016, Hettienne Park had many insightful comments about the relationship between Beverly and Will. And she also broke many hearts when she commented on how Beverly might react if she could talk to Will again.
> 
> I miss Beverly Katz.

“Where's your candy bowl?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Seriously? Nothing? Why such a grinch?”

“Wrong holiday. And besides, I never get trick-or-treaters out here.”

“What about me?”

“I don’t think nighttime apparitions count. I do have whiskey.”

“Now you’re talking!”

Will sat at his kitchen table, cradling his head in one hand. Bemused, he watched as Beverly picked her way past the pile of sleeping dogs. None of them stirred.

Beverly sat in the next chair, and cocked an eyebrow at the whiskey bottle. Will straightened and offered her his glass, which she nearly knocked over grabbing the bottle. At Will’s look, she wriggled it teasingly out of his reach. Then, with a sigh and fading grin, Beverly shrugged and took a gulp.

“I have limited time, gotta get a move on if we are gonna see whether I can still get drunk.”

“Why are you here?”

“What do you think, Graham? It’s Halloween night. The veil between worlds is thin and the dead come back to haunt the living.” Beverly popped her eyes and wriggled her fingers at Will, giving her best ghostly moan. It surprised a snort of laughter out of Will and she sat back, satisfied.

“Think about it. You're drunk and half-asleep and what better time for your subconscious to come pick on you?”

Will groaned and slumped onto the table.

“Normally I get drunk so this doesn’t happen.”

“Too bad. I can’t make things that easy on you.”

“You never did. I appreciated that,” Will mumbled into the table.

“Hmm?” Beverly said, as she took another drink of whiskey and then poured some into Will’s glass. He pulled himself upright again.

“You always...you always treated me like a human being. Not a wind-up toy to be taken out and pointed at a crime scene and then put away after I performed my ‘trick.’ Not a fragile _fucking_ teacup that could shatter at any moment.”

“I was willing to give you shit, you mean.”

“Yeah.”

Beverly stared out the window, wearing the clothes Will had last seen her in. He waited for blood to bloom on her skin, but she stayed whole. Beverly lifted the bottle to her lips again. Will idly swirled his glass of whiskey, watching it shimmer in the moonlight. He didn't know how much time passed before he cleared his throat.

“The strange thing is, the fucked up thing is…”

“The fucked up thing is that besides me, Lecter is the only one who ever treated you as something other than a tool?”

Will tilted his glass in acknowledgement.

“No wonder you keep going back to him.”

“I’m...I’m the only one who has a hope of exposing who he is. What he is. To make him pay for everything he has done. Not just to me. Everything he has done...to Abigail, to you…”

“Cut the crap.”

Stung, Will forcefully set his glass down. Whiskey slopped out and Beverly rolled her eyes.

“Party foul! Stop wasting the good stuff. Did you think just because I was dead, because I’m nothing more than your angsty subconsciousness that I would really start blowing smoke up your ass? Resuming your therapy. Likely excuse, Graham.”

Will stared at the spilled whiskey.

“He’s the only other person that treats you like you’re real. Right? The only one who actually looks at you and actually _sees_ you. _You_. Not some idea of who you are, but actually you.”

“Yeah.”

“I get it. I do.”

“Bev…”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m still pissed that I got killed. And yeah, I know you told me to stay away. That doesn’t excuse what happened to me. I was doing my job. More than that, I was trying to help you. But he murdered me. He killed me and sliced me up and put me on display. I was your friend, Will. _Your friend._ I understand why you keep going back. I meant that. I really do. But that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed. It fucking hurts.”

“I wish I could....”

“I know.”

“I really do miss you.”

“I know.”

The living room clock chimed midnight.

“I’m sorry, Bev. I’m so sorry.”

Silence.

Will looked up. The other chair was empty and the whiskey bottle sat just out of reach. Will sighed and finished his drink. He needed to get to bed.

His weekly appointment with Hannibal was today.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I had an idea for a post-The Wrath of the Lamb fic, but then it flowed better set in season 2. Beverly may need to revisit Will in the future. I hope I captured Will and Beverly's voices.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 Please let me know your thoughts here, or at [my tumblr](http://www.memorypalaceofwillgraham.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://www.twitter.com/JaxOfBo).


End file.
